


Comfort

by orphan_account



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Fluff, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Valentino is a dick, off screen murder attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:46:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26065195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Alastor patches Angel up after a nasty scuffle with Valentino
Relationships: Alastor/Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 204





	Comfort

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first hazbin fic and it isnt that good but fuck it

Angel, despite having seen all the events leading up to this, could _not_ believe what was happening; the small moment of realization almost made him completely freeze. One moment he was dealing with Valentino for what must’ve been the fourth time that week, and the next he was getting patched up by _Alastor_ of all people.

The Radio Demon’s smile was obviously a bit strained- Angel wouldn’t call himself an expert on reading the other, but he liked to believe he was worried about him. Even if that thought made him a little sick to his stomach. Damn feelings. He was gently- fucking _gently_ \- holding Angel’s hand, lifting one of his arms while he tended to a bloodied scrape near the forearm, the ever so slight green glow of whatever bullshit magic he had floating in the air as he bandaged it. Angel didn’t question exactly what he was doing; he just assumed it was helping. He trusted Al enough for that.

“I hope these aren’t uncomfortable at all,” Alastor said, breaking the tune of the song he’d been humming quietly as he gestured to the bandages he was now securing, “I would hate to leave you in any sort of bad condition, my dear.”

Angel huffed out something akin to a laugh, shaking his head softly. “Nah- it’s fine,” he assured, “I’ve been in tighter holds.”

The other’s smile twitched a bit at that, almost seeming to fall at the very corners before straining back up to what Angel guessed was supposed to be a comforting expression as Alastor hummed a small noise of… discontent? Angel couldn’t tell- it wasn’t like Alastor emoted much. Silence washed over them again; it wasn’t entirely uncomfortable, Angel didn’t fully know if it would’ve been better or worse to say something.

There were a few more scrapes and bruises from the scuffle he’d gotten himself into- the most notable of which being a large set of scrapes on his back from when Valentino had grabbed him. It’d happened before, but judging based on the intense stinging he’d almost become numb to at this point and how he could feel blood still seeping into his torn shirt, it was deeper than he’d experienced in the past. It wasn’t that he necessarily hated the pain- just that Valentino hadn’t really meant it as a kinky thing. More of a murder-y thing.

“Can you turn around for me, dear?”

Angel nodded softly at the question, ignoring the fact that his back stung and burned as he turned and the slight lightheadedness that came with it. As cool as blood was, he didn’t think his body was particularly good at handling losing this much. He couldn’t help the hiss of pain that slipped out as Alastor moved the torn fabric of the shirt, blood and fabric sticking to the wound. The other seemed to immediately freeze in the action.

“Are you alright?” he asked, voice layered with a worried overlay of static that had been present through the entire interaction.

Angel couldn’t help giggling a bit. “Does it fuckin’ look like it?” he joked slightly, turning to face Alastor and only being met with a tilted head and a worried smile that made Angel’s stomach churn, “I- it just stings a little. Not bad, I promise.” He stayed looking at the other just long enough to see his expression relax a little bit, shooting a small warm smile before turning away again. He didn’t want to chance accidentally catching a fond look from the other demon again.

Alastor returned to moving the torn shirt out of the way, sighing to himself slightly. “We’ll have to sew this up,” he offered, the green glow returning as Angel felt the sensation of some sort of disinfectant on the scratches.

He shook his head, waving one of his bandaged hands up in protest. “I don’t really need this one- ‘sides, Val’ll probably buy me a new one to make up for it. Somethin’ fancier.” The shirt had been a cute one, though- his light yellow crop top with the pig on it. He’d gotten it himself- but that didn’t really matter. As he said, Valentino usually made up for this sort of thing by buying out some store for him.

Alastor hummed for a moment, before shaking his head. “No, I insist,” he continued, only raising a hand and tsking when Angel opened his mouth to argue again, “my dear, I would hate to see you throw away something that I know you enjoy.” He paused for a moment, grabbing a few of the paper towels they’d haphazardly brought with them to clean the blood (Al had almost seemed panicked bringing Angel to his room, though maybe that was more due to the mess). “Besides, it’s no trouble,” he insisted, the static fading into a faint echo around the two of them, “I quite enjoy sewing anyhow.”

Angel debated arguing yet again, but he caved, happy that he was facing away from the other so he couldn’t see him grinning and blushing like an idiot- god, he had it bad. “Fine, if you wanna take my clothes that bad,” he joked softly, trying to ignore that the stupid butterfly stomach feeling had almost overpowered the wound’s stinging.

“You will be getting it back,” Alastor responded- Angel could practically _hear_ the eye rolling.

“Suuuure,” Angel replied, giggling a bit, “because this shit’s _totally_ not one of the softest things I own.”

Alastor simply sighed. “You are insufferable sometimes, you know.” He let out a static-layered chuckle. 

“Yeah, and I’m fuckin’ proud to be.”

It was at least good that the two of them weren’t as panicked as before; well, Angel hoped it was. Did this count as just ignoring the issue? He was supposed to be figuring out how to get past Val, maybe he _should_ be thinking about that- but he didn’t want to. Not fully, anyway. Still, Al was finishing up whatever he was doing to fix up Angel’s back, and the pain had mostly subsided at this point; so, now there wasn’t much else to focus on.

There was a beat of silence. “If you would like, I can take the shirt now and send it off to be washed,” Alastor said- Niffty did the hotel’s laundry for the most part, “of course- you _would_ need a temporary replacement.”

Angel hummed for a moment- for once in his life, the concept of having his shirt fully off managed to make him flush a bit- but he shrugged after a moment. “Sure, why not,” he said, reaching to tug the bloodied fabric off his body himself (like hell he was going to let Alastor do it) and tossing the fabric to Alastor.

The Radio Demon was making it a point to look away, which admittedly made Angel giggle a bit more. “Y’know I don’t _mind_ you lookin’ at me.”

“ _ **No**_ , no, that’s not polite,” the other insisted, shaking his head and still looking away stubbornly, “put another shirt on, Angel.”

Angel hummed. “Well what if I don’t wanna?” He was admittedly trying to push the other’s buttons- they were having a goddamn moment, politeness was the last thing on the spider demon’s mind.

Alastor almost seemed to break for a split second, static becoming louder for a moment, though he didn’t waver from staring at the wall in the room.

“...Pardon?”

“What if I don’t _wanna_ put another shirt on?” Angel repeated himself, crossing his arms and smirking as if the other could see, “y’know, it’s awful uncomfortable wearin’ shit over scratches like this when they’re fresh. So why should I?”

“I-” Alastor started a sentence, before interrupting himself with a shake of his head as if he was shaking off the static that had become exponentially loud, “Angel, the scratches are _healed_ , for the most part- while I wouldn’t want you to be uncomfortable, it is simply ridiculous for you to-”

“Just fuckin’ look at me, Al,” Angel interrupted, his own composure snapping before the other demon’s (damn) as he leaned closer, holding himself up with his lower two arms while reaching up to move Alastor’s face with one of his upper two, forcing the demon to look at him.

Angel _swore_ the other was blushing, looking confused for the first time in what must’ve been forever as he strained his smile up at him, ears pinned back against his head. It was almost cute- and he had to relish in the feeling of catching him off guard for once. It was only a moment before Angel realized exactly what he’d done, though, eyes widening a bit as he hesitantly let go of Alastor’s face and huffing a small nervous laugh.

Alastor’s composure seemed to return at the lack of touch, something Angel would most _definitely_ be filing away to use later. “If you _insist_ ,” he said, sighing a bit and adjusting his gloves as he _finally_ looked at Angel- the spider demon would swear he saw his eyes drift for a moment, “I will not force you.”

Angel laughed a bit more, smiling softly at the other demon. “Thanks,” he said, pausing for a moment. “Why d’you bother with the etiquette shit anyway? Aren’t you like- a murderer?”

“Well, yes,” Alastor replied simply, “but that doesn’t mean I can’t be polite! I’m a gentleman first!” The demon’s usual energy seemed to have returned, with him extending his arms as a way to accentuate his words.

Angel rolled his eyes, though his smile remained on his face. “Well, you certainly live up to that,” he said, letting out a tiny laugh, “hell, you’d probably offer tea to someone you kidnapped.”

Alastor let out a laugh at that, his posture straightening a little more as his smile widened. “A funny concept, though I’ll have you know my general attitude hardly matters when it comes to that area of things,” he said, still chuckling a bit as the static fuzzed comfortably.

“Oh?” Angel asked, leaning a bit closer to the other again in interest, “wanna tell me more about _that_ area of things?” He smirked a little bit- the more dangerous parts of Alastor and what he did didn’t really scare Angel; if anything, it intrigued him. What could he say- he was a simple man, he sees tentacles and he becomes obsessed.

Alastor’s grin held something a little more wicked behind it, a chuckle escaping him as his microphone fizzed into existence in his hand, maneuvering itself to push Angel back a bit and resting under his chin. “My dear, I don’t think that is a good idea,” he said, testing, static fading into mindless background noise.

Angel chuckled a little bit, ignoring how he was quickly flushing under the other’s stare in favor of flashing him a smirk. “Really?” he asked, voice holding a bit of an allure to it, “prove it.”

The other demon paused for a moment, before laughing a bit more, a warped laugh track joining him from the microphone under Angel’s chin before it was pulled away. “Maybe someday I’ll show you around the radio tower,” he offered, “will that satisfy your incessant desire to know about the details of my work?”

“Partially.”

“Well, it’s a deal then!” Alastor said, almost cheerily.

Angel huffed a bit of a laugh. “It’s a date,” he said, pointing some finger guns at the other.

Alastor hummed for a moment, before shaking his head. “Must you phrase it like that?” he asked, giving him a slightly puzzled look.

“Yes,” he replied simply, giggling a bit.

“Well,” Alastor seemed to be contemplating something, his smile tilting to the side a bit, “if it’s a _date_ …”

Angel hardly processed the feeling of lips on his own before the other was pulling away, only affording him a split second to return it as he stared with wide eyes and mouth agape. He reached a hand up to touch his own lips, as if affirming what had just happened.

“Then consider it my courtship!” Alastor flashed a wide smile at him, though Angel caught how tightly he was gripping the microphone in his hand.

He was silent for a moment, just processing, before he quickly gripped the collar on Alastor’s suit and dragged him into another kiss, lasting longer this time as their lips moved together. 

There was a moment after pulling away that Angel just stared at him, before giving a tiny little laugh and smiling. “Sure,” he said, wrapping his arms comfortably around the other’s shoulders.

Alastor chuckled softly, his smile becoming a thousand times more relaxed as his microphone disappeared to allow him to rest his hands on Angel’s hips. “Wonderful.”

The scars definitely weren’t forgotten, and angel’s back still stung like hell, but he couldn’t help feeling more comfortable and happy than he had in months as the two of them laid down, hugging onto each other and allowing the static to envelop him like a warm blanket with a tune absently playing in the room.


End file.
